Shadow Walker (18 page)

“What do we do now?” Dawn asked when Cole informed her of the situation.

“No sense waiting around town for the next train. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover to reach the Red Cloud Agency. We’ll find Running Elk camped somewhere in the area. I’ll buy supplies for the trip, then retrieve your horse and our baggage. We’ll keep a spare horse to carry our supplies. Had there been room at the hotel, we might have waited, but it will take some time to clear the tracks and I see no reason to delay.”

No reason at all, Dawn thought but did not say. The sooner Cole got rid of her, the better he’d like it. It didn’t take a wizard to know that.

The sun was slanting low in the western sky when they left Pueblo. Cole had purchased a two-week
supply of food and sturdy riding clothes for Dawn. Everything was packed away on the spare horse. Dawn was happy to be mounted once again on Wally. She did wish, though, that she’d had time to take a bath in town. When she mentioned it to Cole, he told her they would camp tonight on a fork of the Arkansas River, where she’d be able to bathe.

Cole found a perfect campsite just as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. The night was warm and balmy, since they hadn’t climbed into the higher elevations yet, and Dawn hurried to the shallow pool Cole had pointed out to her. While she bathed, Cole hunted small game for their supper. When Dawn returned from the river, Cole had a plump rabbit cooking on a spit.

“Shall I make biscuits?” Dawn asked as she sat beside the fire to dry her hair.

“Relax, I’ll do it.”

“You can cook?”

“I’ve done my share.” He mixed biscuit dough while Dawn ran her fingers through her long hair to work out the tangles. Her sinuous motions mesmerized Cole, making his fingers itch to take over the chore for her.

Unaware of his intent perusal, Dawn arched her back, fanning her hair toward the fire. The simple motion pushed her breasts forward against the thin cotton of her shirtwaist, drawing an involuntary groan from Cole.

She has no idea how seductive she is, Cole thought as he watched her stretch like a cat. Firelight played upon her skin, turning it to warm honey, and her ebony hair gleamed like black
satin. She looked delicious enough to eat, and Cole knew from experience that she tasted sweet all over. They had shared incredible passion in the cave the night before, and Cole yearned to experience it again. He tried to justify his hunger for Dawn by calling it lust. His mind accepted that explanation, but his heart was more difficult to convince.

Dawn fell asleep with the coffee cup in her hand. She awakened briefly when Cole took it from her and carried her to her bedroll. The urge to join her beneath the blanket was strong, but he resisted with admirable restraint. Each time he made love to Dawn he realized how imperative it was that he find a place for her with Running Elk. Cole couldn’t handle a permanent relationship. He wanted freedom to live with his memories of Morning Mist.

They traveled north through eastern Colorado. The weather remained hot and dry, with occasional cloudbursts cooling things down when the heat became unbearable. They kept to the eastern slopes of the Rockies, riding long days and usually finding adequate campsites near rivers and streams. They encountered few travelers, but those they did meet repeated rumors of a huge army of Indians gathering for battle. The battle was in retaliation for General George Custer’s expedition into their lands. They claimed he’d started a gold rush into the Black Hills in direct violation of their treaty.

Cole despised the White man’s greed and began to have second thoughts about thrusting Dawn
into an unsettled and dangerous situation. But until he spoke with Running Elk, his plans would remain unchanged. He prayed that Running Elk would not join his allies. Running Elk was a wise and compassionate leader and would do what was best for his people.

Dawn knew little about Indian troubles. Billy had mentioned them from time to time, but she’d never paid much attention. Until now. Hearing about a brewing war sent fear spiraling through her. How could Cole endanger her life like that?

They had stopped for a cold lunch and were resting with their backs against a tall spruce tree. Dawn ate in thoughtful silence, then blurted out, “Perhaps you should leave me in the next town.” Earlier that day they had encountered a traveler who spoke in hushed tones about a huge gathering of Indian nations at the Little Big Horn. “I don’t want to be caught in the middle of a war.”

“We’ve come too far to turn back now,” Cole replied. “I trust Running Elk. I’m counting on him to remain cool and not rush off to join something that could mean the end of his people. I won’t leave you if danger exists.”

Dawn snorted derisively. “I don’t believe you. I know you want to be rid of me. I don’t blame you. I’m not your responsibility.”

“If I wanted to get rid of you I would have left you at the cabin.” He stared at her, wanting to kiss her but knowing what it would lead to. He seemed to have damn little control where Dawn was concerned. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Time to go. I want to make our next campsite before dark.”

Dawn sighed. No matter what Cole said, she knew he wanted to be rid of her. She wished that the fierce, handsome Shadow Walker would return and make love to her the way he had in the cave. For some unknown reason Cole Webster avoided her like poison.

One morning Dawn awoke to find Shadow Walker staring at her. He was dressed in breechclout, moccasins and deerskin leggings. His chest was bare, covered only by a thick mat of curling red hair. The breechclout barely concealed the taut cheeks of his buttocks and the thrust of his sex, and Dawn found herself blushing.

“Why are you dressed like that?” she asked, unable to remove her gaze from his powerful masculine form. This half-naked savage was Cole Webster; however, he wasn’t the Cole Webster she knew.

“We’re in Indian territory. Shadow Walker will be familiar to the Indians we may encounter. I rode with the Sioux long enough to gain a reputation. Our safety may depend upon that reputation. From now on, it would be wise to think of
me as Shadow Walker. Does my Indian guise bother you?”

Dawn swallowed reflexively. Bother her? Yes, in more ways than one. Didn’t he realize how his very presence affected her? Didn’t he know she never would have given herself to him if she hadn’t felt it was right? He hadn’t made love to her since that night in the cave, and she could only assume that he was trying to impress her with the fact that he didn’t need her.

“If you think transforming yourself into an Indian is necessary, then I have no objection. I rather like you this way.”

Two days later they encountered their first Indians. A small tribe of Oglalas passed them on their way to the Little Big Horn River in Montana Territory. Shadow Walker spoke with the chieftain and learned that the rumors about a huge army of Indians gathering on the Little Big Horn were true. He was greatly relieved when he learned that Running Elk had not yet joined the rush to the Little Big Horn.

They camped in a small glade that night. The long days of riding were taking their toll on Dawn, and Shadow Walker had begun stopping earlier each day to allow her ample time to rest. She usually fell asleep over their meal, which helped Shadow Walker uphold his vow to keep his hands off her. No matter how desperately he wanted to make love to her, he knew it would complicate their lives. The sooner she forgot him, the better off she’d be.

The following morning Shadow Walker became aware that they were being followed. When he
saw a band of garishly painted Indians crowning a nearby hill, he hissed a warning to Dawn. “Don’t look back, we’re being followed.”

Dawn resisted the urge to turn her head toward the danger. “Are we in trouble?”

“I’m not sure. Until they ride close enough for me to identify, I won’t know. They could be renegades.”

Dawn paled at the word “renegade.” Did the Indians mean them harm? Would Cole’s guise as Shadow Walker save them?

“Here they come,” Shadow Walker warned as the renegades charged down the hill toward them. He calmly drew rein and waited. Dawn pulled Wally in close beside him.

The renegades surrounded them, whooping and eying the packhorse with interest. Shadow Walker brought Warrior around to challenge the leader. He recognized the squat Sioux renegade immediately. He and a group of Dog Soldiers had left Running Elk’s tribe when the chief took his people to the reservation. Speaking fluent Sioux, Shadow Walker boldly challenged the leader.

“Why do you stop us? Don’t you recognize me, Horned Owl? I am Shadow Walker, brother-in-law to Running Elk.”

Horned Owl stared at Shadow Walker, his ugly face revealing surprise. “It has been a long time, Shadow Walker. I heard you had left the People.”

“I have returned,” Shadow Walker said. “I seek Running Elk’s village.”

“Bah, Running Elk is a cowardly old woman. He hides on the reservation instead of fighting for the right to live free.” He thumped his chest with his
forefinger. “Horned Owl will not let the White-eyes take our lands without a battle. Will you join our fight, Shadow Walker?”

“I sympathize with your cause, Horned Owl, but I have important business with Running Elk.”

Horned Owl’s dark gaze settled disconcertingly on Dawn, liking what he saw. “Is the woman yours?”

“The woman is called Dawn. She travels with me to Running Elk’s village. She carries Sioux blood in her veins.”

“A half-breed. No matter, I will buy her from you. I have many horses; name your price.”

Dawn moved closer to Shadow Walker. She was surprised at her ability to follow most of the conversation. It had been many years since her mother had taught her the language, but little by little the words took on meaning.

“Dawn is not for sale.”

Horned Owl gave him a malevolent look. “We will discuss terms over a pipe. Come, you will accompany us to our campsite.”

Horned Owl spoke to his men, who immediately surrounded Shadow Walker and Dawn.

“What are we going to do now?” Dawn asked, trying not to panic.

“We’re going to go with them,” Shadow Walker said. “Don’t worry, I’ll not let them hurt you.”

Surrounded by the renegades, they rode a good two hours before arriving at a small encampment consisting of a dozen tipis. A few women and children moved about the rather decrepit village as several skinny dogs ran out to greet them. Shadow Walker thought it a pitiful example of the Indian
villages he had known during his years with the People.

Horned Owl dismounted. Shadow Walker slid from Warrior’s back and helped Dawn to dismount. They followed Horned Owl to a lodge decorated with paintings of deer and elk. He ducked inside. Shadow Walker and Dawn followed.

“We will discuss terms now,” Horned Owl said without preamble as he lowered himself to the ground and settled against a backrest covered with skins. Shadow Walker and Dawn sat crossed-legged across from him.

Dawn shifted uncomfortably beneath Horned Owl’s avid scrutiny. She trusted Shadow Walker to get them out of this fix, but Horned Owl’s interest in her was worrisome. Why had she allowed Shadow Walker to drag her into this wilderness? She felt no kinship with Indians despite her mixed blood.

“There is nothing to talk about,” Shadow Walker said. “Dawn is not for sale.”

“You are my captives,” Horned Owl reminded him. “I have the power of life or death over you.”

“I am of the People,” Shadow Walker declared. “I was adopted into Running Elk’s tribe and earned my name through acts of bravery. Killing me will bring no honor to you.”

Horned Owl lapsed into a thoughtful silence. “What you say has the ring of truth, Shadow Walker. I left my tribe because I was unwilling to settle on the reservation, but I have done nothing to bring dishonor to myself or the People. I fight for the right to live free while others accept worthless
treaties that are broken time after time. I have no quarrel with you. You may leave.”

Shadow Walker was too canny to take Horned Owl’s words at face value. The renegade wanted Dawn, and Shadow Walker realized that the situation called for diplomacy.

“Dawn and I will leave immediately,” he said.

Dawn was so relieved she jumped to her feet. Then she saw Shadow Walker’s stony expression and knew a moment of fear.

“You may leave, Shadow Walker, but the woman stays. I have taken a great liking to her. I will ease myself between her thighs tonight.”

Dawn could remain silent no longer. “No! I’m going with Shadow Walker.”

“Be quiet, Dawn,” Shadow Walker hissed in warning. “Don’t let him know you’re upset.”

“You’re not going to let him have me, are you?” she whispered.

He sent her an exasperated look. “Not in a million years.” Shadow Walker knew there was only one way to save Dawn from Horned Owl’s clutches. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He could always force an armed confrontation, but that wouldn’t necessarily guarantee Dawn’s safety. He must avoid doing anything that would endanger her.

Horned Owl sent Dawn a quelling look. “You are much too bold. I will teach you to curb your tongue.”

“Sorry, Horned Owl, Dawn is not yours for the taking. I am well schooled in Sioux laws.”

Horned Owl shifted his gaze to Shadow Walker. “What trick do you play, Shadow Walker?”

“No trick, Horned Owl. Dawn is my wife. It is against Sioux law to take another man’s wife unless there is a divorce. There has been no divorce. Even now Dawn could be carrying my child.” The moment those words left his mouth he was struck by the truth of them. They had made love twice. Either time could have resulted in pregnancy.

Horned Owl’s dark gaze swept over Dawn with an intensity that frightened her, settling disconcertingly on her stomach. “You lie!” he screeched. He didn’t like being thwarted.

A muscle twitched in Shadow Walker’s jaw. “I do not like to be called a liar.”

“And I do not like to be taken for a fool.”

They stared at one another, recognizing an impasse. If Horned Owl killed Shadow Walker and took his woman, he’d bring dishonor upon himself and become an outcast among his own followers, some of whom had been friendly with Shadow Walker during his sojourn with the People. It was true that Horned Owl was a renegade, but he’d never defied Sioux laws and still considered himself one of the People.